Bootleg Calico
by Techno Skittles
Summary: It's never easy going after what you want, especially when the rest of the world thinks they know what's best for you. But some things are worth fighting for, and some things are even worth getting hurt over.


It's in a dark narrow alley that Amelie finds her hours after the sun has set and the rougher population has trickled out to claim the city as theirs under the good graces of the night. A dangerous time of day to be out and about, even more so of a woman of her kind, but blind panic and vomit-inducing worry always trump self-preservation. A smart woman would've simply called in to the police, but she was a wise woman - the police would not think twice of her situation let alone expend their resources on it. She was on her own for this one.

She'd endured many taunts and jeers throughout the night, averted lustful gazes and grazed past outreached fingertips from the men dominating the streets of the outskirts of the city, home to the slums and crass gents that eyed women like pieces of candy and handled them like ragdolls.

And in worse cases, like personal punching bags.

She had almost passed the alley, a thin sliver of space between a furniture store and a shut down barber shop, when she heard the light groan of pain. It was hoarse and she almost turned away in the false belief that it was a drunkard who had stumbled across the street from the bar and managed to trip themselves into the shallow space, but it sounded out again and Amelie couldn't deny the familiarity to it. The flighty pitch, albeit laced with pain, was one she knew all too well.

Quickly she ducked into the alley, nose scrunching at the stench from the rusted tin garbage cans turned on their sides; the bags inside ripped and spilling rotting trash onto the pavement. Carefully skirting around the pile of trash Amelie pushed further into the alley, eyes narrowed in the dim light.

Another pained groan sounded to her right and when she looked over her stomach turned to lead.

She'd seen men battered after the occasional drunken brawl in her trips to the bar and had even seen it up close when her ex-husband had been hooked into a few himself. None of it was ever easy to look at, but it never seemed as bad when the men bore smiles, bragging about their victories (even if it was not their victory to claim). There was a pride in their bruises and cuts.

There was no pride in this.

Disgust brought her to her knees next to Lena's battered body, eyes fluttering with the barest of consciousness. Shaking hands - from nervousness? Worry? Anger? - hovered over bruises already forming on cheeks and arms. There was a long cut on her forehead, shallow but red and angry, dry and crusted blood sitting in the welt and clinging to her face. Her lips were red and busted, a deeper cut on the bottom just barely scabbed over. Her clothes - a fine, new tailored suit - were dirtied and ripped, stained with flecks of blood.

Brown eyes met hers for the briefest of moments before closing. A strangled sigh passed her lips and she coughed, shaking her whole body and causing her to wheeze in pain.

"It may not look it, but I held myself pretty well all things considered."

Amelie frowned and shook her head, tilting her gaze to the sky above to prevent the gathering tears from falling. "I fear to think what you consider as being unsuccessful." She looked back down when she heard the shuffle of fabric against brick, surging forward to aid Lena as she attempted to lift herself off the ground into a sitting position. Her mouth twisted in a scowl she had an argument on the tip of her tongue should Lena try to brush her off or deny her help, but when none came her worry grew.

Lena was not a very prideful person, but it was disconcerting all the same that she silently allowed Amelie to assist her. Still shaking hands hovered over the injured girl, afraid to touch and also afraid to not be close enough to soothe. A smaller hand lifted up to steady one of her own trembling ones and Amelie bit her lip when she noticed the torn skin around Lena's knuckles. It was meant to be a placating gesture she knew, but all it did was make her want to weep.

"I know that look," Lena's stern voice cut into the silence. "Don't you dare think for a second you're somehow to blame for any of this."

Amelie didn't grace that with a response. Instead she gently prodded at Lena's right arm, testing to see if anything was broken or severely damaged. "Do you think you'll be able to walk to my flat?"

Lena laughed, a gesture that tore the barely scabbed cut on her bottom lip. Amelie thumbed away the dribble of blood off of her chin as Lena's tongue ran over the cut, wincing from the sting. "I'm surprised you aren't trying to take me to a hospital."

Amelie quirked an eyebrow. "Would you prefer that?"

When Lena shook her head vehemently, eyes wide in a panic, Amelie hummed quietly, knowing Lena's response from the beginning. Wasting no more time she began to pull Lena off the ground, taking it slowly as Lena groaned and whimpered whenever she moved another aching limb or jolting in pain when moving too quickly. It took almost a full minute, maybe give or take some, but eventually they were both standing, Lena wobbling and shaky but steady enough to move forward with Amelie's help.

The trek home was slow between Lena's stiffness and the occasional stop they had to make while she tried to catch her breath. The climb up the stairs to Amelie's apartment on the fourth floor was torturous in its own right and when they finally arrived Lena almost sobbed in relief as she dropped to the couch.

Amelie immediately headed to the bathroom where she kept her first aid kit in the cabinet. When she opened it she was disgruntled to find that it wasn't fully stocked, but knew that she had to work with she had and it would have to be enough for the moment being. She walked back into the living room, dark save the one lamp that she had left on before going on her search for Lena in the dead of night. It illuminated Lena's soft form, accentuating the slight rise and fall of her chest and highlighting her wounds. Amelie grimaced as she stepped closer - they looked worse in proper lighting and her heart panged for the pain that Lena must've suffered when they were inflicted.

A quiet surge of anger flared in her chest that she forced back down, saving it for another time should she confront Gerard again. This was not something she was willing to let slide, but she knew that her rage would do nothing currently despite how it burned and flickered in her heart and cheeks.

Half-lidded brown eyes watched her distantly as she knelt down in front of the couch, long slender fingers thumbing through the contents of the first aid kit. She procured a cotton swab and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, opening it and dabbing a little bit on the swab. Lena's eyes opened and she stiffened in alertness, frowning deeply when Amelie gestured for her to sit up so that she could clean the cut on her forehead.

"I could live with a scar," she protested weakly.

Amelie narrowed her gaze. "Up," she commanded and with just a grumble and a wince Lena was sitting upright, eyes dropped down to her lap. Her hands fisted the edge of the couch cushion and she took a deep breath.

"Just...do it quickly."

Giving just a nod of affirmation before diving in, Amelie quickly swiped across the cut, taking care to be gentle as Lena flinched away and hissed in pain as the alcohol took its effect. The wound, deeper than Amelie had previously estimated but still shallow enough to not need stitches, was clean in seconds. The dried blood was all gone, most of it caked on the cotton swab, staining it brown and red and pink. The cut behind was an angry and irritated red, but faded to a gentler pink as Amelie capped off the bottle of rubbing alcohol and set aside the swab for later disposal. She began rifling through the kit for a bandage to cover it, only pausing to turn and swat at Lena's hand which had begun to drift upwards towards the cut.

"I wasn't gonna touch it!"

"If it gets infected I'll have to clean it again." That shut her up and Amelie was left to look for the bandage again in peace. Soon enough she found one that was large enough to cover it and peeled off the wrapping to apply it. Once it was on Lena hesitantly raised her hand again towards her forehead, tentatively touching the cloth of the bandage when Amelie didn't reprimand her again.

"Thanks," she said softly.

Amelie gave a silent nod in response and picked up the bottle of rubbing alcohol again. "Now for your lip."

" _No_."

Golden eyes raised to see brown ones narrowed in defiance, her bottom lip tucked behind her teeth as some sort of protection. Amelie almost argued with her and insisted that it was for the best but the words wouldn't come. Eventually her shoulders slumped in defeat and she let out a long sigh, conceding. A horrible weight settled on her in that moment and she felt as though she had suddenly aged decades in those short seconds.

A soft pair of arms reached out and brought her closer, wrapping around her shoulders and tucking her into Lena's collar. Warmth surrounded her and the musky thin scent of garbage with the heavier underlying scent of cigarette smoke filled her nostrils, overloading her delicate senses and making her eyes water. She buried herself further and brought her hands up to Lena's waist. Her fingers toyed with the rumpled fabric of her shirt before dipping underneath to brush against soft skin, burning to her cold touch. She lifted her chin, her nose brushing the hollow of Lena's throat and her lips grazing the dip of her collar. Lena's legs shifted against her stomach and her pull strengthened.

Amelie inhaled deeply, closing her eyes before pressing the pads of her fingers into Lena's hips, nails digging welts into smooth skin. " _Cherie_ …"

She felt a gentle kiss press against her shoulder and she twitched, digging her nails in harder. Trying to hold on. Afraid to let go.

"This doesn't change anythin', ya know? I'm not leaving you."

Amelie gave a curt laugh and shook her head. "You're an idiot."

She could feel the shift of her lips as Lena grinned against her. "Never stopped me before, has it?"

Amelie bit her lip and raised her head, pulling away which cause Lena to do the same until they were looking at each other. "And _that_ is what worries me." She reached in between them to thumb the cut on Lena's lip, gently brushing across the new scab forming, thin and easy to break. Her ministrations were halted when Lena's hand caught her own, tilting it so that Lena could kiss the palm, the rough scab scratching against Amelie's soft skin.

"I'm not scared. Of them. Of anyone. Of _this_." She dropped her hand, mouth settling into a frown and brows furrowing as brown eyes examined every part of her face, causing Amelie to suddenly feeling self-conscious and withdraw, if only a little. "But if you're scared...well, maybe this isn't the kind of life you want to be leading, love."

Amelie scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Those men are just about as terrifying as a toy poodle." When Lena didn't look convinced and sighed and leaned closer until her forehead touched hers. "I only fear what they will do to you. What they already _have_ done to you."

Lena's face broke out into a large grin and she gave a harsh laugh, eyes squinting shut and mirth brightening up her features, almost eliminating the darkening black eye and blighting the bruises on her cheeks. "Oh this? I've been roughed up way worse, love, believe me!" she exclaimed, faltering at Amelie's concerned look. "But hey! Look it here," she said, reaching down to recapture Amelie's hand and hurriedly bringing it up to her chest, nestling it between her breasts. Her smile softened and a spark of mischief glinted as the heady gasp that escaped the older woman, her cheeks pinking and breath stuttering. She pressed her hand harder against her chest, fingers brushing against her knuckles.

"Ya feel that?" she whispered.

And she did. It was steady and warm, flighty yet firm. Her heart pulsed against the pads of her fingers, thudded against her palm in a muffled rhythm. She hummed in contentment and her fingers curled relishing the intimate feeling in her grasp.

"I'm still here," Lena continued. "I'm still alive. And, most important, I'm still _yours_. If you'll have me, that is."

Her own heart swelled and she felt the burn of returning tears she had fought so hard to keep at bay for the entire night. Her teeth dug painfully into her lip and she took in a deep breath, her shoulders shaking and lungs stuttering as she released it. Lena was just so good, too good. Her devotion was unyielding, so warm and encompassing that it washed away all self-deprecating thoughts that haunted Amelie in her absence. It wasn't often to meet someone who claimed to be willing to do anything for you and have them follow up their promises, and somehow it hurt Amelie all the more knowing that she could not say the same. And Lena knew this. And she accepted it.

Her hand curled into a fist, her knuckles pressing into Lena's sternum while her other hand lifted to Lena's arm and squeezed, forgetting that she was littered in bruises. "I do not deserve you."

Lena chuckled and threaded her fingers through Amelie's long hair. "If anything, I don't deserve you."

Her heart twisted and the first tear fell, because Amelie knew that she honestly believed what she said.

Her forehead fell forward and gently thumped against Lena's and seconds after her lips had crashed into hers, pressing so firmly and harshly she felt the thin scab split again, a faint taste of copper on her tongue mingling with the salt of her tears. Lena responded in kind, matching her fierceness and desperation with stability and gentleness, caressing where Amelie squeezed, grazing where Amelie pierced.

None of this was over, both women knew that as a certainty. For them it would be a never-ending battle, one full of danger and relapses. Doubts would plague them, fear would encompass them. There would be instances where Amelie would give in and distance herself, and instances where Lena would flinch away when a gaze would linger too long on their joined hands, but both women knew that this would not be an easy hill to climb.

It was only moments like these, raw and full of intimacy, that would keep them going.

* * *

 **A/N:** Was listening to Coco by Parov Stelar on repeat and this is the result.

I kinda have more planned for it but I dunno if I'm gonna keep going with it. Maybe, maybe not. If it gets good reviews I'll probably push it to the top of my never-ending list. If not, you'll probably never see anything else from this.


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